


whispers in the dark

by sterydia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Future Fic, Mild Language, Monster of the Week, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11913714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sterydia/pseuds/sterydia
Summary: “Help me,” the body whispered, although his mouth never moved.There was someone or something else in the woods with her, she realized, she could sense its gaze on her, and the sickness rolled through her again. Whatever it was had done this.“Is it too late?” this time, the whisper came from the trees, echoing around her. But she kept her attention on the person in front of her.





	whispers in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't think that I would get this fic finished, as there were originally supposed to be two fics posted and I had to drop one. But here it is! Many many thanks to the wonderful mods at [Het Big Bang](http://het-bigbang.livejournal.com/profile), and [red_b_rackham](http://red-b-rackham.livejournal.com/) for her feedback as I was sharing snippets of this fic. A super big THANK YOU to my Livejournal f-list who cheered me on as I angsted over this and changed the plot four times, and wrote. I LOVE YOU ALL. Finally thank to Shep for the beta read on such short notice. Any mistakes left over are my own!
> 
> *Although there are mentions of things that happened during S5, this goes AU after the final events of S4.

Damp leaves clung to her feet, and she stumbled through the darkness down the well-worn path. The woods that surrounded her were familiar, even in the darkness she knew them. More times than she could count, she’d been out there, running from something or looking for something. Up ahead in the clearing to the left, a large tree stump sat. The air around it vibrated and shimmered with power. The Nemeton.

The images in front of her changed, and the stump became a whole tree, large and lively. Before the tree stood a woman who looked suspiciously like Kira. It must have been Noshiko, who was burying something in the dirt beneath the tree’s roots. Again, the images flickered and changed. She saw Parrish carrying bodies to the stump, surrounded by the flames of the hellhound. All around her, wind ripped through the trees, and she fought to stand upright as she got closer to the stump.

One of her feet caught a root sticking out of the ground and she stumbled, landing on her hands and knees on the hard-packed earth. The fall made her teeth snap together and she nearly bit her tongue in half. She lifted her hands to get her hair out of her face and frowned. They were sticky with something, and she realized with horror that her hands were coated in blood, thick lines of it trailing down her arms. The blood was on the leaves and dead pine needles all around her, and it made sense suddenly. The ground wasn’t wet with rain.

It was wet with blood.

The scream that was building in her throat died when she realized that the vision of Parrish was gone and everything in front of her had changed. There was a dark shape lying across the Nemeton, a body, and she knew who it was. She scrambled to her feet, rushing over. Blood spilled over the edges of the stump, looking black in the darkness.

“Help me,” the body whispered, although his mouth never moved.

There was someone or something else in the woods with her, she realized, she could sense its gaze on her, and the sickness rolled through her again. Whatever it was had done this.

“Is it too late?” this time, the whisper came from the trees, echoing around her. But she kept her attention on the person in front of her.

She reached for him, touching the bare skin of his back and leaving a bloody handprint right beneath the triskele tattoo between his shoulder blades. As soon as her hand made contact with his skin, she screamed.

*

Lydia wasn’t in the woods in Beacon Hills, she was in her apartment in Boston. It had only been a nightmare. Sitting up, she shoved the blankets off and turned on the light. There was no blood on her, no matter how real it felt. And it had felt pretty damn real. But it just left a bad feeling with her, because her nightmare had been about Derek, of all people. Whatever had been in that dream with her, and with Derek, it felt like it was still in the room with her right then.

Shifting around on her bed, Lydia grabbed her cell phone off her nightstand. It was three in the morning there, but in California it was only midnight. She could only hope that Scott was awake as she dialed his number. It rang a few times before he finally answered.

“ _Hey, Lydia,_ ” Scott sounded like he’d been sleeping, and she cursed under her breath. She hadn’t meant to wake him up, but she knew it couldn’t wait. “ _Are you okay?_ ”

“Sorry to wake you up,”

On the other end, she could faintly hear Kira’s voice, asking if everything was alright.

“ _No, it’s fine. We just fell asleep in front of the television. What’s going on_?” he asked, sounding more awake.

Lydia wondered if she was just being paranoid. It had been a bad dream, and yet, it was a very specific bad dream. Derek and the Nemeton. Derek’s dead body.

“Is everything okay there? Nothing going on...with the Nemeton?” she asked hesitantly.

She’d gone back to Beacon Hills for Christmas, but even then, it had been relatively quiet. She just needed to be sure.

“ _No, everything’s fine. It’s almost boringly normal. Lyds, please tell me what’s going on?_ ” he asked, his tone getting more worried.

Sighing, Lydia got up and walked over to the window. Snow coated the ground and was still coming down lightly. “I had a nightmare, about the Nemeton...and Derek. Scott, this is kind of awkward, but could you give me his number? I just want to check that he’s alright. I’m probably being paranoid.”

“ Derek’s in Beacon Hills, he’s been back for a few weeks. He joined up with the pack,” Scott said.

A chill ran down Lydia’s spine because she would have felt better if Derek weren’t in Beacon Hills. That would mean he was far from whatever danger there may or may not have been there. Maybe it was all in her head, but she was usually right about these things.

“I have some personal time built up, I’m going to take it and fly out there. I know I probably sound a little crazy, but--”

Scott cut her off, “ Hey, no, it’s okay. _After everything, you know that I believe you, Lydia._ ”

Lydia swallowed hard, because a long time ago, Allison had said the same thing to her in a motel room before she even knew what her banshee abilities were. Of course Scott believed her. Not once did he or Stiles ever doubt her when she got the feeling that something was wrong.

“I can be there by tomorrow night. Could you do me a favor, please don’t say anything to Derek. I’d like to talk to him myself, if that’s okay?” She asked. Lydia didn’t want to cause panic for nothing.

“ _Sure, Lydia. Just text me your info for your flight, and I can pick you up at the airport,_ ” Scott offered.

Lydia smiled slightly, “Thanks Scott, I’ll let you know.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Lydia stared down at her phone, wondering if maybe she’d made a mistake. She also wondered if something big was coming to Beacon Hills, and she would be able to prevent anyone from getting hurt. Her stomach still felt sick, and Lydia decided that she wasn’t going back to sleep. Instead, she went to her desk to make travel arrangements and let her boss know that she was going to be using her vacation time. The lie that her father was ill just came to her as she was writing out the early morning email. She hadn’t seen her father in two years, but she couldn’t say that she was a banshee going home to check for a supernatural threat.

The sun was coming up as she was making the final arrangements, and her alarm started going off as she packed her suitcase and willed herself to drink a cup of coffee. Lydia sent Scott her flight details like he’d asked. Her flight wasn’t for a few more hours, and after getting a confirmation from her boss that while short notice, her vacation time was approved, she tried to sleep. But every time she closed her eyes, she saw that bloody handprint on Derek’s back, his blood dripping off the stump of the Nemeton. She could still hear that whisper, coiling around her.

_Is it too late?_

*

When Lydia got off the plane, it wasn’t just Scott waiting in the airport terminal for her. Kira, Stiles, and Malia were with him. She’d never been so relieved to see her friends--her pack-- even though it had only been a few months. After high school, they’d all scattered from Beacon Hills for college, but eventually everyone but Lydia ended up back there. It was probably only a matter of time before she did too, while she enjoyed a life outside of the supernatural living in Boston, there was a sort of safety that came with being in Beacon Hills.

“How was your flight?” Kira asked, trying to sound calm about Lydia’s arrival. But she could feel that they were all on edge. It had been so different at Christmas.

Lydia nodded, “It was good.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” Malia offered bluntly.

“Thanks for that,” Lydia said dryly, tucking her hair behind her ears. She wasn’t wrong though, she knew that she looked tired and rundown, even though it had only been twenty-four hours. Makeup helped, but she was still running on fumes.

“C’mon,” Scott hooked a comforting arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. “Let’s get your bag and we’ll head home.”

Lydia wanted to tell him home was Boston, but Beacon Hills was always going to be her home in one way or another. She didn’t bother to correct him. She collected her suitcase from baggage claim, which Stiles insisted that he carry, and made their way out to the jeep.

She got this weird sense of Deja vu as she climbed into the back seat, Malia and Kira on her other side as she pressed up against the window. The trip that they’d taken to Mexico, to find Derek. The similarities weren’t lost on everyone, she noticed, as Stiles drove.

“Will this thing make it back to Beacon Hills?” she asked finally, her voice light. The jeep was ancient, and she was surprised that it was still running. It had belonged to his mother, Lydia knew Stiles kept it for sentimental reasons.

“This jeep gets us where we need to go Lydia, and it has much less duct tape holding it together than it used to. I drove all the way to Phoenix to buy parts and make sure that it survives a while longer,” he informed her, and she saw him run a hand across the dashboard lovingly.

Rolling her eyes fondly, Lydia leaned her head against the window, breathing in the air that was coming in from the passenger side window that Scott had rolled down. It was impossible to tell her it was mid-March, it was so sunny and warm. In Boston, it was snowy and cold, and though she’d gotten used to it, she preferred the California weather.

“-Derek’s for dinner,” Kira was saying and Lydia’s eyes snapped open. She must have drifted off, because when she looked around, she noticed that the area they were driving through felt more familiar. She didn’t remember falling asleep, or whether she’d dreamed anything.

“What?” she asked in confusion.

“The past couple weeks we’ve been doing this whole weekly dinner thing,” Malia explained. “We’re supposed to be going to Derek’s tomorrow night for dinner. Is that going to be awkward?”

On one hand, Lydia was a little sad that she’d missed out on the past few dinners that had happened. She had friends in Boston that she went out with, but they weren’t these friends. And yet, Malia was right; it could be awkward. But only if Lydia let it be.

“No, it’s fine,” she said with a shake of her head. Despite three out of four of the people in the jeep with her being supernatural creatures, no one called her on her lie.

Lydia could feel it when they passed the area of woods that the Nemeton was in, it felt like being shocked by static electricity, except on the inside. Scott and Stiles felt it too, she could see that clearly in the way that Stiles’ grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. She could see it in the way that Scott pressed his body harder back against the seat and dug his own nails into the leg of his jeans. At least they weren’t claws. Lydia couldn’t tell if Malia and Kira felt it, they’d never really been affected by the Nemeton. Not like she, Scott and Stiles had been.

She’d decided just to stay at her old house, even with her mother in Paris for the next month. It would be easier that way. Natalie Martin had grudgingly accepted the supernatural and the fact that her daughter was a banshee, and she meant well, but that wouldn’t stop her from prying about what Lydia was doing in Beacon Hills.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Malia offered as Stiles pulled the Jeep up in the Martin’s driveway. “Isaac won’t be back until next weekend, it won’t be as boring with you there.”

“My guest room is available,” Stiles chimed in.

“I’ll be fine here, I promise.” She assured them, and even though no one looked convinced, they agreed.

*

Lydia’s childhood bedroom hadn’t been changed after she’d moved away. Plum colored walls, matching comforter, and the little white butterflies hanging above the headboard on the wall. Allison’s Chinese ring dagger still in the drawer of her vanity beside a satchel full of wolfsbane that possibly still had some potency left in it. Most of her belongings were in Boston, the surfaces of her dressers and vanity bare.

Dropping her suitcase in the middle of the room, Lydia walked over to the window and pulled back the gauzy curtains. Her bedroom overlooked the pool, which was covered while Natalie was away.

“We could stay with you, if you need us to,” Scott said from the doorway.

Her gaze lingered on the gate that leg out to the woods behind her house, the same ones she’d walked through during those days that she’d been under Peter’s control. Spinning around on her heels, Lydia put on her best smile.

“Scott, I’m fine here,” she repeated. “You still have lives and jobs. Besides, I’m pretty sure if I’m in any immediate danger, you’ll hear me.”

Stiles raised a hand from behind him. “I’m not okay with this, just so you’re aware.”

“You never are. But I’m an adult, and I can protect myself if I need to. Also, I need sleep. Come back in the morning, with coffee,” she said.

She knew that they weren’t comfortable leaving her alone, but they still left. Lydia knew that she was going to find Stiles and Scott at her front door first thing in the morning, coffee in hand, and it would feel like high school all over again. She was looking forward to a morning of doing research and seeing what they could find out about what she’d dreamt, even if they didn’t have that much to go on yet.

Lydia probably should have slept, but she didn’t. Walking out onto the back steps, she found herself staring at that gate again. The memories of what she’d done under Peter Hale’s influence were vague, but she remembered some things. Her mind was clear when she decided to go through it this time. Most of the trees were stripped bare, leaves covering the ground. Afraid that she would see blood any minute, she kept her eyes on the ground as she walked. There were no paths in the woods, but she still found her way.

She was expecting to end up in a big clearing, because the remains of the house had been demolished a few years earlier. But there was a house standing there. It looked nothing like the Hale House once had, not the one in Lydia’s memories or the burnt-out husk that had been left behind after the fire. It was a nice looking house, she realized as she got closer. It was painted a pale blue, one story with a huge wrap around porch and a bay window that overlooked the direction she’d just come from. There was a vintage looking Camaro parked in a driveway that looked to have been recently repaved.

The thought that she could have been dreaming crossed her mind for a moment, and she wondered if that was all this was. Another dream. She could have been lying in her bed at the house, exhausted from the flight and the drive. Reaching in the pocket of her skirt for her cell phone, Lydia realized that she’d left it back it the house, on the kitchen table.

She wasn’t in any danger, she didn’t feel scared to be there. Even as the back door of the house opened and the person who had been inside stepped out, and her heart started pounding rapidly, she still felt oddly safe.

*

The last time Derek had seen Lydia Martin, she’d been at his front door, screaming and warning him of his death. It had been six years, but he still remembered what she looked like, standing in the doorway, rain water dripping from her hair and that haunted look in her eyes. And now she was standing in his backyard, staring at him as he walked out onto the porch.

Her eyes were clear, no sign of a banshee’s wail about to break free of her. She was just staring at both him and the house, unsure of what to make of both.

“Hi, Derek.” she said softly.

Derek didn’t really know her. The handful of times they’d been in the same room with one another had been because of the pack, and that was all before Mexico. The most he knew about her was about her grandmother, who’d also been a banshee.

“Hi, Lydia,” he crossed his arms over his chest, unintentionally defensive. “What are you doing out here?”

Scott hadn’t told him Lydia was coming back, not that it was really something Derek would have needed to know. But the way she was staring at him, it made him wonder if something else was going on.

“This house didn’t used to be here,” she said, and he turned slightly to look at it. “The last I’d heard, the Hale family land had been sold when you went missing.”

Derek had a brief memory of lying on the table in the animal clinic while Lydia held his hand, after Kate had turned him back into a sixteen year old. He remembered that she’d sat by his side all through the night.

“The rights to the land were reverted back to me, and I sold my building. The house was built last summer.” he explained.

Moving back to Beacon Hills had gone better than he’d hoped. The name Hale still meant something, and a lot of people had forgotten that Derek had been an accused murderer. Not everyone forgot, but it was enough. Joining up with Scott’s pack had just felt right. He’d spent six years as an omega, being a part a pack again felt good.

His eyes tracked the movement of her fingers twisting in the fabric of her skirt, and realized that she had obviously come there for a reason. “Do you want to come inside?”

Nodding her head, Lydia followed him up the porch steps and into the house. The doors they’d gone through let into the kitchen, and behind him, Derek heard Lydia gasp softly.

“This place is definitely an improvement from your loft,” she said as she looked around. Glancing over at him, the corner of her mouth tilted up. “No offense.”

“None taken,”

Stepping farther into the kitchen, Derek watched her as she walked around the large island counter, peering through the archway that led into the living room. He didn’t mind her exploring, ever since he’d come back and moved in he had every member of the pack in there at least once a day.

“Are you alright, Lydia?” he asked as she came back to perch on one of the many barstools surrounding the island.

Underneath the scent of her perfume, Derek could smell her hesitation and nervousness. Outside, her heart had been beating so fast he thought that she might pass out. Her outward appearance didn’t give anything away, to a normal person she might have just looked lost in thought. Whatever was going on, it had to do with him specifically.

“The other night, I had a strange dream,” she began, pointedly staring at the counter. “It was more of a nightmare really. I was in the woods at the Nemeton and there was so much blood, and I saw you there.”

She finally met his gaze, and Derek didn’t even have to ask whether she’d seen him alive, because he already knew.

“There were whispers in the trees, and a bloody handprint on my back,” he said, and Lydia’s eyes widened.

“How did you know that?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly.

“I had the same dream,” he admitted.

It was something he hadn’t even told Scott, mostly because nightmares weren’t a new thing for Derek. And while he didn’t know that it was Lydia in the nightmare, everything else matched up. The Nemeton, the blood, and the whispers coming from the trees, asking him if it was too late.

Lydia shook her head, “I don’t believe you, Scott told you…”

“The whispers wanted to know if it was too late,” he said, and judging by the look on her face, that wasn’t something that she’d told Scott.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” she said, still staring at him dubiously.

Derek’s eyebrows rose, “When has anything in any of our lives ever made sense?”

She shrugged like he had a point, but he knew that she was right. He’d never heard of packmates sharing dreams before, especially not identical ones.

“It’s obviously connected to the Nemeton somehow. But I don’t understand if the voices belong to whatever...does that to you? Maybe it’s just some horrible nightmare,” she was trying to convince herself of that, but even she sounded doubtful.

“Tomorrow night we can talk about it with everyone, see what they think of it. We’ll figure out what’s going on,” Derek said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could.

She nodded her head, knowing that when everyone put their heads together, they could always find out what was going on. They could already rule out that it was some sort of odd coincidence.

“I’m sorry I used you to resurrect Peter,” she said suddenly, taking Derek by surprise.

He remembered standing in a classroom, unwilling to work with the others because of what Lydia and Allison had done. Just the thought of Allison sent a cold chill through him, he’d never forgive himself for hating her like he did. It had just been the fate of their families, he supposed.

“I’m sorry I planned to murder you because I thought you were the Kanima,” he said, and he meant it.

Lydia didn’t flinch at the mention of Jackson like he thought that she would. Instead she just smiled slightly. They probably didn’t need to apologize for the thing that they’d done in the past, but maybe it was something that they needed to do.

“Do you want me to drive you back to your house? You shouldn’t be walking around in the woods alone, especially now,” he offered.

One of Lydia’s eyebrows ticked up, “I can defend myself just fine, Derek.”

“We don’t even know what we’re defending ourselves against,” he pointed out.

“Everything, Derek,” she slid off the barstool, and he took that as a silent acceptance of a ride home, “We’re defending ourselves against everything.”

*

Derek usually shifted and ran in the mornings. His house was far enough away from anyone else that no one could chance upon a large black wolf in the middle of the woods.  Ever since Mexico, he always had to find some place to shift and run. It was like he could feel the wolf moving beneath his skin, begging to get out. Coming back to Beacon Hills and moving back onto his family’s property meant lots of room to run, until he felt like his lungs would collapse. There was a sort of freedom in shifting that he’d never felt before.

When he opened the front door, he found Malia standing on the porch, slouched against the railing.

“Lydia was here yesterday?” she asked by way of greeting.

Derek rolled his eyes at his cousin, knowing that Lydia’s scent still hung in the air around the property. “Good morning to you too.”

She just continued to stare at him blankly, and even though he could tell that she was ready to run with him, she wasn’t going to budge until he talked.

“She came by, yeah. We talked about--”

“Her horrible nightmare about you being dead?” she asked, her tone blunt. Derek only scowled at her.

“Yeah, that.”

It hadn’t taken him long to get used to the way that Malia just said whatever was on her mind. He would never say it out loud, but she was a lot like Peter had been, before the fire. And she was a little bit like Laura too.

“We’re gonna talk about it more tonight, at dinner,” he said as he walked down the porch steps. Malia trailed after him.

“You’re not worried that you might, I don’t know, die?” she asked, walking farther away from him behind an overgrowth of shrubs.

Derek turned his back, stripping out of his shirt, “Not the first time it’s happened, Malia.”

A grey blur suddenly ran past him, and Derek smiled to himself. Malia had been just as anxious to shift and run as he was. The change from human to full wolf was fluid and painless, and as soon as he hit four legs, he took off after the coyote. They were the only two in the pack who could full shift, and Derek always had this odd nostalgic feeling when they ran together.

Up until the fire, he’d spent his entire childhood in those woods, chasing Cora and Laura around, playing with their other cousins. When they were little, Talia would make it a game to full shift and have them track her. That was before the hunters started chasing werewolves down for sport. Malia and Derek raced each other along the property line, dodging and weaving around the trees other to see who could get to the streams first. Derek usually won, unless Malia played dirty and knocked him over.

There was an unfamiliar scent lingering in the air the closer they got to the streams, and it brought Derek up short. Pressing his nose to the ground, he tried to fire out where it was coming from. Lifting his head, he realized that Malia was gone. Whatever the smell was, it was getting strong enough to cover hers. He knew those woods like the back of his hand, and it was easy to shift back and find one of the many bags he’d stashed with clothes inside.

“Malia!” his shout echoed through the woods, and he knew it could attract whatever was out there, but he needed to find her. Grabbing an extra shirt from the bag, he started for the streams again. “Malia? Can you hear me?”

A sharp, high pitch whine cut through the air, and Derek ran towards it because he knew that it had been Malia who made the sound. He found her half lying in the stream, shifted back to human and curled up in a ball. There was a large gash on her side that was bleeding badly, even as it had already started closing.

“Where did it go?” she asked, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

Derek held out the shirt to her, which she took and pulled over her head, wincing as it brushed the closing wound.

“You saw it? Are you okay?” he asked, helping her to her feet.

“Of course I saw it, it attacked me!” she snapped, but then she frowned. “I mean, I think I saw it, whatever it was. It came out of nowhere.”

He looked around, but he didn’t see or hear anything. No matter how strong it had been when he was shifted, the scent of whatever it had been was already starting to fade. There was no way to track it.

“C’mon, let’s get back. We’ll call Scott,” he said. They kept their guard up as they made their way back the direction they’d come from.

“Should we call Lydia too?” Malia wondered.

Derek nodded, “Yeah, we need to call Lydia too.”

*

It didn’t take long for Scott to get there, bringing Kira and Isaac with him. Derek had been vague on the phone, he didn’t want to start a panic within the pack. At least, not until they knew what they were dealing with. Derek was a little surprised to see Isaac back so early; he was supposed to be in San Bernardino, getting some supplies with Mason. They were also supposed to be meeting with the local pack there. Not even Isaac could get back that fast, so Derek could only assume they’d been back when he called Scott.

“Stiles and Lydia are on their way,” Scott confirmed as they came up onto the porch where Derek and Malia were. She’d changed back into her own clothes, and the wound in her side had fully healed.

“Are you okay?” Isaac asked Malia, crouching down in front of her and touching her face gently.

She went to bat his hand away, but kept her fingers curled around his wrist, “I’m fine, I’m all healed.”

“Did you see what attacked you?” Kira wondered.

Malia nodded, but still looked unconvinced because whatever had attacked her had been too fast for her to really see. Derek glanced past everyone to see Stiles pulling his jeep into the driveway. He’d originally planned on telling everyone about the dream that he and Lydia shared at dinner that night, but it seemed like there wasn’t going to be time to wait for that. It felt obvious that whatever had attacked Malia and the dream were somehow connected.

Lydia looked relieved to see that Malia was okay, but Derek could tell that she was thinking exactly what he was, “There is no way that this is random. Whatever did this had to be whatever is supposed to hurt Derek.”

She’d purposely avoided using the word ‘killed’ because she was adamant that they would be able to figure out what was going on, she just hoped that it was going to be before anyone else got hurt. Not everyone in the pack had healing abilities, and it someone out there was targeting them specifically, they needed to hurry.

“Lydia and I had the same dream,” Derek blurted out. Everyone was suddenly looking in his direction. “The exact same dream, which is something I’ve never heard of happening in a pack before.”

“What does that even mean?” Scott asked.

Derek glanced past the at Lydia, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression, “It means we’re in trouble.”

“Huh, must be Tuesday,” Stiles muttered under his breath.

“What did it look like, what attacked you?” Isaac asked, and Derek knew if they could know what it looked like that could help them.

Malia’s face fell, “It looked like a blur, honestly. But it…it looked human, I think? It just moved really fast. I didn’t hear it coming at all.”

“Hey, that’s good,” Scott said, looking at the others, “That at least gives us somewhere to start. Something that looks human, but moves fast. Faster than a werewolf?”

“It wasn’t a werewolf, there would have been some kind of lingering scent,” Derek said, and Malia nodded in agreement.

“So, we’re looking for something that moves faster than one of us, and possibly never leaves a scent behind so it’s untraceable? That’s super encouraging.” Isaac said, and Stiles gestured to him silently, to prove that he did have a point.

“It’s still better than nothing,” Lydia said, giving Malia an encouraging smile.

It was practically nothing, but Lydia looked slightly hopeful, he wasn’t going to tell her that. The fact that whatever attacked Malia had no real scent to it was at least somewhere to start. Everyone and everything had a scent that was specific. They could change it, they could try to mask it, but there would always be something there.

“Why don’t we start cooking and we can look through some of the books that I have?” Derek suggested. Lydia nodded, slightly comforted by the idea of research.

Everyone went into the house, Lydia the only one who felt slightly out of place as she watched Stiles and Scott pulling food from the refrigerator. Malia and Kira started grabbing the pots and pans that would be needed, while Isaac grabbed dishes. A sharp pang went through her chest at the scene before her, and she felt the regret that she’d left Beacon Hills in the first place.

Derek’s fingers brushed her arm and she jumped, turning to look at him, “Sorry, I spaced out there for a minute.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a small smile. “Let me show you where the books are. Unless you want to help cook?”

Lydia shook her head, letting him lead her through the living room and down the hall to the library. There was a bookcase that ran the length of one entire wall, and it was filled with all sorts of books. She brushed her fingers along the spine of a Stephen King novel that was tucked between an Italian cookbook and a book about Norse gods.

“These aren’t in any sort of order,” she pointed out, and Derek shrugged his shoulders.

I just started putting things on the shelf. I never thought of categorizing them,” he narrowed his eyes and smiled again. “It drives you crazy, doesn’t it?”

Lydia rolled her lips into her mouth, ignoring his question as she walked around the room. There were framed photos on the walls, and she noticed with a little bit of sadness that there were none of Derek’s family except for a few with Cora in them.

“Do you have a copy of the Beastiary?” she asked, turning back to look at him.

Walking over to the shelves, Derek ran his fingers along the books until he came to a familiar looking paperback, “It was really smart, having this printed into actual books for everyone. Stiles gave me one of the copies.”

“It’s easier than a flash drive, that’s for sure,” Lydia agreed.

There was a loud crash in the kitchen, and they both looked up, startled.

“My bad!” Stiles yelled, followed by a small yelp that could have possibly come from Malia smacking him.

“I’m going to go make sure that Stiles doesn’t burn down my kitchen,” Derek headed for the door. “Don’t start alphabetizing my books while I’m gone.”

He left the room and Lydia continued to look over the books to see if there was anything else that could help. There was a book on obscure demonic entities, and she pulled that one off the shelf as well. Sitting on the couch, she kicked off her heels and pulled her legs up beneath her. It had been a while since she’d read through the Beastiary, not really having a reason to while she was in Boston. She didn’t mind settling into the role of researcher, it was something she’d always enjoyed.

While whatever attacked Malia, and was possibly going to hurt Derek, was a big priority, she was still hung up on the fact that she and Derek had shared a dream. Despite being pack members, they barely knew each other. The biggest connection they had between them was Peter, and Lydia honestly hoped that he was dead somewhere. But in the dream, her fear that Derek was dead was so real, it hurt so much.

“Hey,” Lydia glanced up to find Stiles standing in the doorway, offering her a glass of wine, “Find anything yet?”

Lydia accepted the glass, taking a sip, “Stiles, I’ve only been looking for—”

“You’ve been in here for almost forty minutes, dinner’s almost done,” he interrupted.

When she looked at the clock that Derek had on his desk, she saw that Stiles was right. She’d spaced out, and not in the usual banshee way. Looking down at the copy of the Beastiary, she saw that she hadn’t even made it that far into it.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Stiles asked, concern showing on his face.

It would have been easy to lie to him and tell him that she’d slept peacefully all night. But she’d tossed and turned most of the night before giving up around five that morning.

“I don’t want to go to sleep and have something else horrible happen,” she admitted.

“Hey, nothing really horrible happened yet. Malia is fine, Derek is still okay,” Stiles was trying to reassure her, and Lydia forced herself to believe that he was right. “C’mon, let’s go get dinner and then we’ll come back to the books.”

Lydia’s stomach growled, answering the question for her.

*

It was another dream. That was the only explanation for the too bright sun, the almost ethereal glow of the house. It also looked like Derek’s childhood home, before the fire. He walked from room to room, seeing his family’s things in the last place they’d been, unburned and whole. Laura’s bedroom door with its black paint and the sign that said “GO AWAY” in big purple letters still hanging on the knob. Derek’s fingers touched the little doodle of an angry wolf face that Cora had drawn on it.

Familiar voices floated up the staircase, and hope soared in Derek’s chest for a minute. Even if it was just a dream, it was his family. Seeing them again in any way was better than never seeing them at all. He started for the stairs, but only made it a few steps before the walls burst into flames. He expected to be hurt, but the fire never touched him. In the back of his mind, he wondered if that was because he wasn’t home the night of the fire. Screams filled the house, loud and anguished, and Derek fell to his knees, slamming his hands over his ears.

“Come and see,” the whispered voice carried through the house. The fire was gone, all that was left was the charred remains that Derek had come back to.

He moved towards the stairs again, and this time as he descended them, the house merged and changed into the house that had been built where his family’s home once stood. The glow was back, and he was hesitant to move towards the voice he’d heard, afraid of what he would find. The house seemed empty, but there was a scent lingering in the air, and that was what he moved towards.

Lydia was sitting on his kitchen counter, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts that fell off one shoulder because it was too big for her. She smiled softly when she saw him, and in the back of his mind, Derek wondered if she was actually asleep in her bed, dreaming the same thing.

“This isn’t real,” she said, still smiling.

Derek shook his head, stepping forward to touch her. But something made him stop, and he turned to look out the back door. A blur ran past the windows, disappearing as quickly as he’d seen. His hand reached for the doorknob, but Lydia stopped him.

“Don’t go out there, Derek,” she said. Her voice had gone from happy to fearful, and when he looked back at her, he saw that she looked terrified. “Please don’t go out there!”

Instead of staying in the house with her, he pulled open the door and stepped out onto the porch. He glanced back to tell her that everything was okay, but she was gone and the kitchen was dark.

“Is it too late?” the wind carried the voice through the trees, again it was just a whisper that seemed to be everywhere at once.

“Derek!” Lydia shouted, and saw her standing at the bottom of the steps, staring at him with wide teary eyes. When he looked back across the yard, it felt like his heart stopped.

A row of bodies lined the ground, leading into the woods. Even without seeing which way they went, he knew they went towards the Nemeton. There were so many of them, and they were all faceless as if their identities were being purposely hidden. He moved down the stairs almost in slow motion. Lydia grabbed his arm.

“Don’t look!” she pleaded, as if she’d seen something that he hadn’t.

“Come and see, come and see,” the whisper enticed, sounding gleeful about whatever was happening.

Above them, the sky changed. For a split second, it was light out and then the moon began to slowly shift over the sun. It was a solar eclipse, blocking out the sunlight and casting an eerie darkness over everything around them.

Something was moving through the trees, fast. There was a sound, something between a growl and a hiss, and it made Derek growl back in return. He still couldn’t see whatever it was.

“Derek,” Lydia’s voice cracked, and the faces of bodies that were laid out before them might have been gone, but he saw what she saw now.

The black bands tattooed around an arm, the flannel shirt on one body, the wavy brown hair on another. Something glinted in the bloody leaves that surrounded them, and Derek realized that it was a katana.

“No,” he choked on air, making himself understand that the raw pain they were feeling at the death of their pack wasn’t real. “It’s just a nightmare. There’s nothing there.”

“I’m here,” the whisper promised, and there was an eerie laugh that made the hair on the back of Derek’s neck stand up.

A dark blur ran towards them, too fast for them to see. Derek pushed Lydia away, a loud roar escaping him at the creature attacked. The last thing he heard was Lydia’s scream piercing through the night.

*

Derek woke up in a cold sweat, finding himself back in his bedroom. It was still dark out, after three in the morning, the numbers on the clock glowing bright red in the darkness of the room. Everything was the same as it had been before he’d gone to sleep. He didn’t even think about it, he climbed out of bed, walked out of the house and started running.

There were no dead bodies in the woods, the pack was alive and safe for now. The physical pain of losing a pack member was very real, and despite what he’d felt in the nightmare, he was sure that they were all okay. He ran through the woods as fast as he could, the wolf beneath his skin hoping to get out and run on its own. But he stayed in control, coming up short outside of the wrought iron gate at the back of the Martin’s house.

Lydia was already outside, her arms wrapped around herself and her face pale. Derek could hear the rapid beat of her heart, her fear very visible in that moment. He opened the gate and walked through, and as soon as he was close enough to her, Lydia flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He hesitated for a moment, before wrapping his arms around her back.

“They were all dead, and you…” she trailed off, her voice clogged with tears. “What is going on?”

“None of that was real,” Derek assured her, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice.

Lydia pulled back to look at him, “There was a solar eclipse.  I don’t remember there being one in the first dream.”

Neither did he. But he had a feeling that was something important, something that would help them find whatever creature they were looking for.

“Finding this thing might end up being the easy part at this point. What’s confusing is the dreams. No one else in the pack has them,” he said.

“I used you in a resurrection and I predicted your death, I’m pretty sure those are the closest connections that we’ve had,” Lydia said with a frown.

“We could talk to Deaton or Mason about it, one of them might have an idea,” he said smoothing down her hair.

Lydia reluctantly loosened her grip on him, stepping away.  Derek realized that the scent that he smelled in the dream was all Lydia; lemon and sugar, desire and power. It was stronger now that they were awake and she was right in front of him. Stupidly, Derek wanted to kiss her.

“We need to figure out when the solar eclipse will be. That might help us figure out what this thing is and when it’s going to attack,” he said instead, taking a step back of his own.

Lydia nodded in agreement, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Should we call everyone else and wake them up?”

“Nothing’s going to happen now, call them later in the morning. Try to get some more sleep,”

“You’re not going to stay?” Lydia asked, sounding a little panicked.

Derek should have turned around and went back to the house. Lydia was perfectly able to defend herself, she’d told him as much the other day. But right then she looked very much like the scared teenager that he remembered seeing the night that Jackson stopped being the Kanima and became a werewolf.

“If you want me to,” he agreed.

She looked so relieved, he couldn’t let her stay alone if she didn’t feel safe. She led him back into the house, firmly pushing the back door closed behind them. Lydia locked the door before turning and walking through the kitchen. The house was dark, but Derek was easily able to see where she was going, following behind her all the way upstairs to her bedroom.

“Where’s your mom?” Derek asked as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Paris, thankfully. I don’t think she would be able to handle me having nightmares again like when I was in high school,” When Lydia noticed that he was making no move to come further into the room, she rolled her eyes and smiled a little. “You can come in, you know? It’s perfectly safe in here.”

He could smell the faint scent of wolfsbane somewhere in the room, but it wasn’t strong enough to affect him. Scowling, Derek sat on the padded bench at the bay window, while Lydia sat down on her bed. Staying in the room with her was one thing, staying in her bed was another thing entirely.

“The way it whispered,” Lydia shuddered a little. “It never got loud, it was always quiet.”

“Something quiet that only kills during a solar eclipse and moves faster than a werewolf,” Derek nodded his head, thinking about what they knew so far. He still had no idea of what it could be.

“That should be specific enough to at least figure out what it is,” Lydia said, her voice breaking off as she yawned. She started to reach for her laptop, but Derek grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“Sleep, we’ll start looking into it later in the morning.”

Lydia looked like she wanted to protest, but instead she slid under the covers, pulling them up around her as she laid down in the bed. She made no move to turn off the bedside lamp. Tucking one of her hands beneath the pillow, she turned on her side to look over at him.

“That bench isn’t comfortable,” she said.

“I’m fine,” Derek promised. Lydia pursed her lips, ready to argue more, but Derek only shook his head. “Go to sleep, Lydia.”

Reluctantly, Lydia’s eyes slipped closed. Derek could hear the moment she fell asleep; her heartbeat and breathing evening out. He wondered if she would dream if he was awake. Shifting around on the bench that was more comfortable than Lydia said, he looked out the window, up at the moon that was half hidden by the clouds, waiting for morning to come.

*

When Lydia opened her eyes, the room was empty. The sky outside was gray with the promise of rain. Suddenly fully awake, she sat up and threw off the covers. Getting out of bed, she walked over to her bedroom doorway, peering out.

“Derek?” she called out, only to be met with silence.

She didn’t get a feeling that something was wrong, but she was surprised that he would just leave. She showered and dressed, grabbing her cell phone and her laptop and walking downstairs. When she made it into the kitchen, she found a steaming mug of coffee, with a note from Derek saying that he’d gone for a run, and that the others would be there soon. Lydia relaxed a little.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and scrolling through the Beastiary on her computer when she heard the knock at the front door. She was tempted to call out for whoever was on the other side of it to come in, too distracted in her research. But there was always the possibility that whoever was on the other side of that door wasn’t friendly.

Peter Hale was on the other side of the front door when she opened it. Lydia couldn’t believe it, a part of her hoped that she was dreaming.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked, anger seeping into every word.

Peter’s mouth turned up in a smirk. “Why, I’m here to help, of course.”

“I’ve got some wolfsbane you can choke on, that’ll help,” Lydia said, making no move to let him in. Her fingers gripped the front door tighter, she was tempted to slam it in his face.

He didn’t seem offended at all, and that only made Lydia angrier. She was sure that Derek wouldn’t deliberately send his uncle—a man who mentally tortured Lydia for weeks—to her house.

“Don’t worry, I’m not staying. In fact, I was instructed to barely even make eye contact with you. I’m only supposed to give you this,” Peter said, holding out something.

Lydia blinked, “Is that a laptop?”

“It has every bit of supernatural information I ever gathered on it before the fire, thank you very much. It’s what we used to figure out what your little Abercrombie ex-boyfriend was,” He gave a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe there’s something that can be of use to you on here.”

She almost didn’t want to take it. But the hope that there could be a bit of information on there that might help them was what made Lydia take it from him, tucking it beneath one arm.

“So, you’ll tell Malia I was on my best behavior?” he asked, although he didn’t sound like he cared if she did or not.

“Drop dead and stay that way,” Lydia said sweetly, before slamming the door in his face.

She knew that Malia meant no harm, and that she was right to get them the computer to be able to use. If Peter kept enough information on there, there was bound to be something that they were looking for. As she was setting up the computer at the table beside her own, the front door opened and Scott and the others came in.

Malia wrinkled her nose, obviously realizing that her biological father had stopped by, “He didn’t do anything stupid, did he?”

“No, just the usual sociopathic Peter,” Lydia said with a shrug. Peter didn’t scare her like he once did. Now he just pissed her off.

“Sorry, I wouldn’t have bothered, but Derek said Peter’s laptop had a lot of stuff we could go through on it,” Malia said, sounding apologetic. But Lydia only shook her head. It wasn’t Malia’s fault that Peter was still as grating as ever.

Stiles made grabby hands for the laptop and Lydia let him at it because she knew that he would probably be able to navigate easier around the system than she would. She was about to point out that Peter didn’t give her the password, but she watched, a little impressed, as Stiles managed to navigate right through to the main screen.

“The FBI must be so proud,” Isaac said, his tone only slightly sarcastic.

Scott nudged Lydia’s shoulder with his own, “Derek’s on his way back. Are you okay?”

Lydia nodded, “I’m fine. I managed to get some sleep last night after Derek showed up.”

It felt oddly like when she was in high school, waking up screaming almost every night and not understanding what it meant. Except this time, she was in control of her powers. That was what bothered her the most, the dreams took her control away. She couldn’t change what was happening while she was asleep and dreaming.

There was a small blur of movement on the back patio, but it was just Derek. Lydia felt relief to see that he’d come back, and that nothing had happened while he was gone. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott give her a knowing look. Silently pointing at him in warning, Lydia walked over to the back door and opened it.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” Stiles blurted out suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at him, and when he didn’t say anything, Lydia rolled her eyes, “You’re supposed to elaborate on that, Stiles!”

“I’m stealing Peter’s database first of all, this has more information than the Beastiary by far,” At Malia’s warning growl, Stiles turned the computer and everyone gathered around it. “This thing? It’s literally called a Whisper. It may have attacked Malia the other day, but it only feeds during a solar eclipse, and supposedly it’s some weird cross between a werewolf and a vampire.”

“Okay, but there’s no picture, how are we supposed to know what it looks like?” Kira asked.

“They’re too fast to get an image of, I guess,” Mason shrugged.

“So, not entirely helpful then?” Liam asked, looking around at everyone in confusion.

It still didn’t explain the dreams, but despite the fact that they had no idea what this thing looked like when it wasn’t trying to kill them, it felt a little better knowing what it was.

“We can either kill it with silver, or cut its head off,” Derek read outloud.

“But if it’s too fast to catch, how do we kill it?” Malia wondered.

Stiles and Scott were looking at each other, having some sort of silent conversation. Lydia caught on quickly when they both turned to look at her.

“No,” Derek said before either of them could say anything.

“It could work, Derek,” Lydia said, trying to sound hopeful about it.

“What could work?” Isaac asked.

Lydia didn’t want to argue about it, but she wasn’t seeing any other way to be able to catch the Whisper. In order to kill it, they had to get its attention.

“It’s a bad idea, Lydia,” Derek shook his head, “And it’s a guaranteed way to get yourself killed if we can’t catch it in time.”

Telling him that she could take care of herself was right on the tip of her tongue, be she avoided saying it. They were supposed to be working together on this and she could understand why he thought the idea that Stiles and Scott had would be dangerous.

“What’s a bad idea?” Isaac tried again.

“Lydia wants to be bait,” Malia told him.

“Derek’s right, if it’s faster than any of us and it gets to you first,” Kira hesitated. “Maybe we can find another way?”

“Guys, the solar eclipse is supposed to be in four days,” Stiles interjected.

They didn’t have time to argue, they had to find out how they could trap the Whisper so that it could be killed. If not, a whole lot of people might die, including all of the people in that room. Lydia refused to let that happen. They’d lost too many people over the years.

*

Regardless of whatever plan they came up with, they were going to need silver, and a lot of it. When Scott called Chris, the hunter told him that he could get them large quantities if they needed it, and he wouldn’t ask any questions. When Scott said that they might need a machete or two, Chris demanded that they meet him so that he could know exactly what was going on.

Lydia and Derek stayed behind because Derek thought that Lydia needed to train. She’d been in Boston and probably hadn’t had much time to work with her banshee powers. Not that she was inexperienced, but rather that she might have felt out of practice. Normal life didn’t exactly require screaming at people and sending them flying across the room, at least not usually.

“Fine,” Lydia agreed after everyone had left. “But I want to see you shift.”

“You want to what?”

“I want to see your full shift,” she said as if it was the most normal thing in the world to ask.

Derek almost told her that she’d already seen it. But he realized that she hadn’t been in Mexico when he fully shifted for the first time. Everyone else in the pack had seen it, even Scott’s mother had seen his wolf at least once. But normally none of them actually _watched_ him shift.

“That requires me taking off my clothes, Lydia.”

Despite her heartbeat picking up, Lydia shrugged her shoulders, “Aren’t shapeshifters comfortable with casual nudity?”

“I never said I wasn’t comfortable with it, I was just warning you.”

“Considerate of you,” Lydia smiled slightly. “We should do this outside, because I’m sure there are valuables in here that my mother doesn’t have insured.”

Derek’s eyebrows rose, but he followed her outside. They walked into the the wooded area just beyond the gate, and they both cautiously looked around. They weren’t sure if they were actually safe from the Whisper, not after it attacked Malia outside of a solar eclipse. And yet, Stiles had been certain that it had no intention of killing Malia, because of the fact that it only killed and fed during an eclipse.

“The solar eclipse in 2017 only lasted two minutes and forty three second, how many people can this thing kill in a time frame like that?” Lydia asked, her voice echoing through the trees.

“As fast as it is, we don’t want to find out,” He walked away from her, putting a good amount of space between them, “Okay, you first.”

“I’m not just going to attack you, Derek!” she said, looking at him like he was insane.

“Lydia, you aren’t going to hurt me, and if you do I’ll heal,” He could sense her hesitation, and he understood why she couldn’t just fight. “That right there is what will get you killed when something that moves faster than a werewolf is coming for you. You have to put at aside, and fight.”

He watched her curl and uncurl her fists, trying to get the tension out of her body. He’d never seen a banshee use the sound wave that served as their weapon, he’d only ever seen and heard Lydia’s scream. Scott told him that her abilities had evolved during her time in Eichen house. He also told Derek to never mention Eichen House to Lydia, at all.

Not giving her the chance to completely relax because he knew what the outcome would be if she didn’t, Derek charged at her without warning. He knew that he had enough control to stop before he got to her, but she didn’t. All she was going to see was his claws and his fangs. She was going to see a threat, and she was going to react.

It had the effect that he was looking for. Her scream stopped him dead in his tracks, and he barely got a glimpse of the sound waves coming towards him before he was flying backwards through the air. He was vividly aware when he felt sharp pain in the shoulder that he’d landed on, his body colliding with the ground a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” Lydia asked, leaning over him. Her voice sounded distorted through the ringing in his ears, and he winced when she wiped away blood from the wide of his face. “I think I burst one of your ear drums.”

Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Derek twisted his right arm around until he heard a loud pop, his shoulder going back into place. Lydia visibly flinched.

“I told you it was a bad idea,” she said, shaking her head. She looked scared that she’d really hurt him, even if by now his ear and his shoulder were already healing.

“I’m fine.” he assured her as he got to his feet. Lydia stared at him doubtfully. “How about regular fighting, you learned hand to hand combat, right?”

She let out a resigned sigh, “Yes, Parrish trained me, and then I mostly worked with Scott.”

“Did you train with anyone in Boston?” he asked.

Lydia flicked her hair out of her eyes, “With Brett and Lori, from Satomi Ito’s pack.”

“Am I frustrating you with this line of questioning when you’re still expecting to see the full shift?” he asked, a grin suddenly coming to his face.

He was teasing her, and Lydia rolled her eyes and let out a laugh when she realized that he was. Any anxiety over what she’d just done was fading away, and that was what Derek had hoped for. He wanted to see her abilities, but he didn’t want her to feel guilty for using them on him when he’d asked.

“Tell you what, when this is all over, I’ll spar with you,” Lydia started walking backwards away from him. “Maybe I’ll even win.”

*

Lydia knew that there was a big difference between a werewolf’s normal shift, and the full shift. She’d never seen it, never knew of a wolf besides Derek that could do it. She heard that his mother could, and that his sister had been in full shift when Peter killed her. Malia shifted, but she was a werecoyote, and that seemed to be a little different because Malia could full shift since she was a child.

“Are you still in control of your wolf once you shift?” she asked, curious about the process.

Derek stripped out of his shirt, dropping it on the ground beside him, and Lydia felt her mouth go dry. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk, “Lydia, you’re staring.”

She could openly admit that he had always been attractive and the years had not affected that in anyway, “Yes, I am.”

“My mind is still my own when I’m shifted, even on the full moon,” he said.

By the time that Derek was undoing the button on his jeans, Lydia wondered if this was a bad idea. She was about to ask if he was even okay with the idea of shifting in front of her, but then he was pushing down his jeans, crouching as he did so, and just like that there was a large black wolf where Derek had just been.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed out in awe, unable to help herself.

She expected the shift to be a little more visceral, but instead it was a smooth transition from human to wolf. If she had looked away, she probably would have missed it. Derek’s wolf was massive, but very far from the terrifying creature that Peter’s full shift had been. He moved towards her slowly, like he expected her to run or be scared. But Lydia stood still. He said he was always in control when he was fully shifted, so she knew that he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Am I interrupting something?” A voice asked from the gate, and Derek’s growl at the sound of an intruder made the hair on the back of Lydia’s neck stand up. It was only Deaton, looking back and forth between the two of them with curiosity. “I hear you’ve been having some interesting dreams.”

Derek still seemed wary of Deaton, but the man was unphased. Out of everyone, he was the one who had the most experience with full shift wolves, as he’d once been Talia Hale’s emissary. He knew that if he were a real threat to Derek, he wouldn’t be standing there.

Lydia looked down at Derek, unable to stop herself from reaching out and running her fingers through the fur on the back of his head. Realizing that she’d basically just pet him, she pulled her hand away. “We’ll, uh, wait for you inside.”

She led Deaton into the house while Derek shifted back, offering the veterinarian a cup of coffee. Even though Mason was the McCall pack emissary, Deaton had always been there when they’d needed him. Lydia had saved his life, pulling him out of the trance that Gabriel Valack had put him in, before the pack went to get Scott in Mexico.

“How’s life in Boston, Lydia?” Deaton was trying to make polite conversation for the sake of trying to ignore the fact that Derek was in the back yard, shifting back into human form and putting on his clothes. “You’re teaching at MIT, correct?”

“Yes, I’m in the math department. It’s nice in Boston, still not as comfortable to me as Beacon Hills. Even with all of the supernatural stuff we go through here.” she admitted.

“It happens, you feel a sense of belonging here that you might also feel in Boston, but it’s not as strong?” he asked. Lydia nodded in agreement.

The back door opened and Derek came into the house, and he seemed more comfortable around Deaton now, sitting down on a stood beside Lydia.

“What can you tell us about these dreams?” he asked.

Deaton sipped his coffee, “Scott said that these dreams were identical, and that you might have felt like you were in control but it was actually exactly how the dream was supposed to go?”

“Right,” Lydia nodded, looking over at Derek. “It was like I couldn’t stop it, but it felt normal to go along with it. The dream the other night, I sat in the Hale House and watched it change and burn, but I never tried to leave.”

“When I was lying on the Nemeton, I wanted to get up, but I didn’t even try,” he said.

“Lydia, have you ever pulled anyone into one of your dreams before? The dreams that are premonitions, I mean?” Deaton asked, and Lydia shook her head.

“You’re saying that I could have pulled Derek into my premonition?” she wondered.

He shrugged, “You were able to go into Stiles’ mind with the use of Scott’s claws. This seems just as possible.”

Lydia’s fingers clenched slightly at the memory of going into Stiles’ head while he was possessed by the Nogitsune, it wasn’t exactly a fun memory.

“So she felt my life was in danger and was able to pull me into her dream? That didn’t happen the last time, when I actually died there for a few minutes,” Derek pointed out.

“Lydia’s banshee abilities have evolved since then,” Deaton reminded him.

Lydia thought that maybe because they were pack, it was easier to pull him into the dream. People had died in Boston, and she had screamed for them, but there was never any kind of connection there. Despite the things that they had done to each other in the past, the pack was their connection

“We’ve figured out how to kill the Whisper, but we need to find out how to slow it down first. From what I’ve heard about vampires, they’re already fast, so combining that speed with the speed of a werewolf makes this almost impossible,” Derek said.

“I might have an idea,” Deaton looked back and forth between the two of them, “but it might involve someone needing to play bait.”

*

Natalie Martin wasn’t surprised to find her daughter in the house. Lydia had filled her in on what was going on, and she’d been a little amused that her daughter had used her ex-husband as an excuse to take the personal time that she needed to come back home and help her friends. Her pack, Natalie had to keep reminding herself after all of these years. It had not surprised her in the least that Lydia dropped everything to come home, she cared about all of them and would do whatever she could to make sure that they were safe. It made Natalie hate herself for ever putting her in Eichen, even though she thought she was doing what she thought was best for her.

Natalie’s flight had landed in the early morning hours and she left her suitcases in the foyer, going upstairs to check in on Lydia. All she knew about what was going on was that Lydia had a premonition that Derek was in danger, but it was close to being over. Finding Lydia in the house, sleeping in her old room was one thing. Seeing Derek Hale asleep in the bed beside her daughter was another.

It had been a long time since she’d seen Lydia sleeping so peacefully, despite the papers and the computer that were sprawled out on the bed between them. Derek was sitting up against the headboard, chin tilted down as if he had nodded off midway through reading the book in his lap. Lydia still had a pen tucked between her fingers, and she was stretched out at the other end of the bed.

Derek suddenly breathed in deep, startling Natalie from where she was standing in the doorway, and looked up at her. She was surprised that he didn’t wake up sooner to find her there.

Wariness crossed his face for a moment, “Do you want me to leave?”

Lydia didn’t move, and Natalie shook her head. “No, stay. I’ll talk to her later on in the morning.”

She didn’t miss the way that he relaxed, reaching out to pull the pen out of Lydia’s hand. Natalie pulled the bedroom door closed as quietly as she could. On the way to her own bedroom, she realized that was the first time that she’d ever spoken to Derek Hale.

*

“These are really cool,” Liam said, reaching for one of the black discs on the table. Lydia slapped his hand before he could touch it. “What, it’s not like werewolves are allergic to silver.”

“No, but you could set one off, and then you’ll get to clean the kitchen,” she said, before narrowing her eyes at him. Putting up both of his hands, Liam backed away from the table.

Deaton’s idea led to Chris Argent creating the landmines that were spread out on Lydia’s dining room table. Instead of the use of explosives, they had silver in them. When pressure was put on them, they would release a fine mist of silver that would imbed itself into the Whisper’s skin. None of the shifters could smell the silver, so they hoped that the Whisper’s sense of smell wasn’t better than theirs.

“There are enough here to cover the area that Lydia’s going to be in, and you’ve got the other silver as well. If we put enough of this out there, we should weaken it. And Deaton did say that it could be vulnerable when it wants to feed,” Stiles said.

Derek still wasn’t happy about Lydia being bait, but it was the best option. The shifters would be close by so once the Whisper was weakened, they could make their move.

“If the machetes don’t work, just rip its head off,” Derek told them.

“I can do that,” Malia agreed easily.

If this had been an omega werewolf, talk of killing might not have been an option. They didn’t kill, not if they had a choice. There was no putting the Whisper in the special ward in Eichen, it had to be killed before it killed Derek or anyone else.

“The solar eclipse affecting us in a positive way would be really helpful right about now,” Isaac mumbled, mostly to himself.

“We’ve never known a solar eclipse to give us enhanced strength,” Scott said, shaking his head.

“Only the supermoon,” Liam said, avoiding looking at Scott.

Lydia held Allison’s dagger in her hand. They’d brought it back from Argent, who had coated it in silver for her. She knew that Isaac still had the twin to the dagger put away somewhere safe. Hooking her finger through the ring, she spun the dagger and grasped the hilt firmly in her hand. Despite her banshee powers, it was a good idea to have a weapon for up close combat, according to Stiles.

Mason raised an eyebrow at her, “Do you know how to use one of those?”

She knew that he didn’t mean it in a condescending way, and she didn’t take it like that. Smiling sadly, she flipped the dagger around in her hand again.

“After Allison died, I learned a little. Didn’t exactly practice stabbing though,” she said dryly.

Stiles was loading the clip of a handgun with silver bullets, “That’s cause you never needed a weapon to protect yourself.” he said with a wink.

The solar eclipse was in two days, and all Lydia could think about was what would happen after they stopped the Whisper. Her life was in Boston, at the very least her job was. She would come back to Beacon Hills whenever the needed her but in reality, she didn’t actually want to go back right away. Her personal time allowed her another week or two, and she intended to take it.

“So everyone’s clear on the plan? We set out the mines after Lydia’s in place. You’ll be able to remember where they are?” Scott asked her.

In case she had to run, Lydia would have to memorize where they put out the landmines. They wouldn’t really hurt her, but if one went off when she stepped on it, it could get into her eyes or cloud her vision, giving the Whisper a better chance of getting her. The pack would be spread out in the surrounding woods, masking their scents with something that Deaton gave them that supposedly worked not only on werewolves but vampires as well. All Lydia knew was that it smelled awful and she was glad that she didn’t have to use it.

“I still don’t like this plan,” Derek pointed out. “Why does Lydia have to be the bait?”

“Because I’m the only one of us here that isn’t dead in my dreams,” Lydia said.

Derek looked over at her, knowing more than anyone else in that room that she was right. In both of the dreams, Lydia was still alive. And yet, she understood his hesitance. If the Whisper was somehow able to get past the landmines and get her, no one was going to be able to save her but her. The more she thought about it, the more she began to understand that it was her or the creature.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to her,” Scott said, sounding sure of himself. If Derek felt less skeptical because his alpha was sure of the plan, Lydia couldn’t tell.

The clock that was on the wall by the phone slowed down to an echoing tick, and Lydia tilted her head curiously. She was used to the feeling of an impending death coming over her, but it had been a while since she’d been that close to it. She knew that no one else in the room could hear the sound of rustling leaves or wind blowing through the trees outside.  Her fingers spasmed at her sides, clenching and unclenching. Lydia heard the sound of running, and the whispering voice that had been haunting her dreams. Leaves blew across her feet, her kitchen floor slowly morphing into the dirt covered ground of the Preserve.

“LYDIA!” Scott’s voice, his alpha roar, cut through the fog in her mind and she startled, falling backwards. Isaac caught her before she could fall.

“What happened?” she asked, looking around at everyone. Her throat felt raw, her voice sounding weak in an all too familiar way. “Did I scream?”

Derek nodded, and Lydia’s breath caught as he held out the notepad that had previously been on the counter, “You wrote this.”

Over and over on the paper, it said “KILL NOT FEED” in her handwriting, and she stared at it in confusion. Automated writing wasn’t something she did often, but it had helped the pack in the past.

“Where’s my mother?” Lydia asked, suddenly panicked.

“She’s with my dad and Melissa, we thought it was best to keep her out of this,” Stiles assured her.

Lydia continued to stare at the paper, trying to figure out what it meant. There was always supposed to be some kind of meaning in the messages that she wrote, and she had no doubt that the three words that she’d written over and over would help them figure out what was going on.

“You said the Whisper feeds during the solar eclipse?” Mason pointed to the notepad. “What if that means that it only feeds on the solar eclipse? Killing and feeding can be a separate thing to it.”

“But why didn’t it kill Malia?” Isaac asked.

The idea that the closer it got to the solar eclipse the more likely it was that that people would start dying made sense. It was preparing to feed, something that was entirely different from when it killed someone.

“Maybe it wanted to get our attention, and the dreams aren’t really connected to it at all,” Kira actually smiled a little. “It doesn’t know that we know what it is yet.”

“But it’s going to be dropping bodies in the woods until the eclipse,” Derek muttered.

“Are you saying there’s a dead body out there in the woods right now?” Stiles grabbed his cell phone. “I’ll call my dad.”

Lydia raked her fingers through her hair in aggravation, just when she thought that they might have the jump on this thing, it decided to start killing people at random. Kira was probably right, her premonitions weren’t tied to the Whisper, but if it was going to kill people until the eclipse, that was going to put a toll on her and her powers.

She started for the back door, but Derek’s hand closed around her upper arm to stop her, “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going to just sit here while that thing murders innocent people,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Is it a good idea going out there?” Liam asked uncertainly, glancing at Scott.

“More people are going to die, Scott! We need to at least try,” Lydia said, her voice rising.

“We should stay out of the woods tonight, Lyds. Let the police handle whatever crime scene might be out there right now. This is a lot different than trying to take on another werewolf, we’re not ready,” he said almost sadly, shaking his head.

Scott was right, she knew that. If Kira was right and the Whisper didn’t know that they knew what it was, it wouldn’t expect the police to show up. As a creature that lived on the fringes for centuries, Whispers relied on not being caught and their stealthiness in order to be able to feed whenever a solar eclipse appeared.

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding tiredly.

“It’s late, why don’t we meet back here tomorrow and go over the exact spot we’re going to do this,” Stiles suggested.

They carefully packed up all of the landmines before they left. Lydia paced restlessly in the kitchen after everyone was gone. She knew that Scott was right and it wasn’t safe in the woods, but she didn’t like the idea of people dying over the next two days until the time came when they could kill the Whisper.

“If there is the chance that the Whisper is vulnerable at the time it’s to feed, the best thing to do is wait for the eclipse,” Derek said, lingering at the counter and watching her pace. “As much as I don’t like the plan--”

“You _hate_ the plan but it’s our only shot,” Lydia interjected.

“As much as I hate the plan, Scott is right. It’s not safe in the woods in the dark, even for werewolves,” he said.

Dragging her hands through her hair, Lydia nodded. “I know, it’s just...been a while since I’ve screamed for someone.”

That wasn’t exactly true; it had only been six months since the last time. And she knew that Derek sensed the lie. She could have blamed it on the scream that always left her feeling tired afterwards, and the headache that was left behind even after she’d stopped fighting her powers. But she didn’t want to keep going in circles, avoiding what she really wanted to say.

“I don’t want to have to scream for you again, Derek.”

Derek took her hand, pulling her into his arms. Lydia went willingly, pressing her forehead against his chest and breathing in deeply. She felt Derek’s fingertips press against the back of her neck, leeching away the pain from her headache.

“That’s not going to happen. I promise,” he said, and he sounded so sure that Lydia tried to believe him.

*

It had been a while since Derek had willingly slept beside someone. Not since Braeden, who was probably the only one of his exes who hadn’t wanted him dead. Lydia had thrown his own words back at him when he tried to go home; the woods weren’t safe and he would have to go through them in order to get to his house. He didn’t put up much of a fight, because it was an argument that he knew he couldn’t win.

He woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, finding himself staring at the ceiling in Lydia’s bedroom. The brief panic of not knowing where he was faded, and he turned on his side to find Lydia staring at him in the darkness.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hushed.

Derek nodded, “Just forgot where I was for a moment.”

“No bad dreams?” Lydia wondered, shifting around on the mattress to get more comfortable.

No bad dreams since the last one. Derek wondered if the dreams only happened long enough to let Lydia know what she needed to to find the Whisper.

“No bad dreams,” he assured her.

Reaching out across the bed, Lydia curled her hand around Derek’s, intertwining their fingers. She was staring at him intently, like she was trying to figure out what to say to him next. Before she could say anything, Derek leaned over to her side of the bed and kissed her. Lydia made a surprised sound, her free hand coming up and cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

“Kiss me again when this is all over,” she whispered against his lips. Derek smiled, nuzzling his cheek against hers.

Lydia resituated herself on the bed, pressed up against Derek’s side, her head tucked under his chin and one of her arms stretched out across his stomach. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her heartbeat even out as she fell into a dreamless sleep, and his own eyes grew heavy again.

They didn’t dream that night.

*

Lydia was hyperfocused on the area surrounding her, memorizing where the landmines had been placed. The leaves had been placed back over them as camouflage, but if she looked hard enough, she could see where each one made the leaves a little higher off of the ground. She checked the timer on her cell phone, it was only minutes until the solar eclipse was supposed to start.

They’d managed to make it through the day before without anyone else dying, and they chose the area that they would use for their trap. Deaton had concocted a powder that she could use that would draw the Whisper to her when it was time for it to feed, that way they would be sure that it would be where they wanted it. Allison’s dagger was tucked into the side of her boot, and the pack was spread out in the woods around her. They masked their scents like they’d planned, so that Lydia would be the only thing that the Whisper could focus on.

The Nemeton wasn’t far off from where they stood, and she her mind had drifted to the dreams she’d had; Derek’s dead body on the tree stump, their pack dead in the woods laid out in a row in front of Derek’s house. None of it had happened, killing the Whisper would prevent that.

“Didn’t anyone tell you not to go out into the woods alone?” The now familiar voice whispered from behind her. Lydia turned around, but there was no one there. Above, the sky began to darken. “Or are you the sacrifice to keep the rest of them alive?”

She knew that the others could hear it, but she didn’t see the Whisper anywhere. Turning around in a full circle, Lydia didn’t see anything. It got darker with each passing moment, and she knew that it wouldn’t be long before it was coming for her.

“Okay, this hide and seek game is getting pretty old,” she muttered in aggravation, crouching down and pulling the dagger from her boot.

“But hide and seek is such a fun game. I always win,” the voice carried through the trees, and even though Lydia knew that she wouldn’t be able to gauge how far away the Whisper was, she knew that it was close.

Up ahead in the clearing, Lydia saw the Whisper. If it was supposed to be some sort of cross between a werewolf and a vampire, she didn’t see it. All she saw was its black eyes and translucent white skin, and very sharp looking claws that had probably once been fingers. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

“Banshee,” it hissed. The Whisper had a way of making its voice carry and never getting louder than a whisper. Lydia supposed that was one of the ways that it got its name.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” Lydia clutched the dagger tighter in her fingers. It was outside of the area they’d filled with the landmines, she just needed it to make a run for her. “Your window to feed is getting smaller.”

The sky took on that eerie glow as the moon began to pass over the sun, and the Whisper let out that cackle that Lydia remembered from her nightmares. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she fought against the urge to run. Looking around, she caught a glimpse of Scott’s glowing red eyes, but that was all she was able to see as the sky began to turn pitch black.

She lost sight of the Whisper as the moon fully covered the sun and she spun around in a circle, hoping that her eyes would adjust to the darkness. It would only take minutes for the eclipse to happen, and she fought to keep herself in control when she realized that it could see her, but she couldn’t see it.

An explosion to her left made her turn around and she heard a screech of pain that could have only come from the Whisper. A glimpse of white skin through the silver dust in the air was visible and Lydia used all of her strength and screamed. Despite being hurt, the Whisper was still fast enough to dodge her sound waves. Claws sliced at her arm, and the dagger fell to the ground as Lydia felt her hand go numb.

“Got you, got you,” the Whisper chanted, and grabbed for Lydia again.

She was aware of the deafening sounds around her, werewolves roaring and everyone scattering from the trees. Dropping to the ground, her hands scrabbled through the leaves as she tried to find the dagger while the Whisper was distracted. It almost looked surprised to see that the pack had been hiding out there.

The silver that the Whisper had been exposed to was slowing it down, she could see that as the sky began to lighten once again. It screeched in anger, launching itself towards Lydia again. Scrambling backwards, she felt her fingers brush against one of the landmines and she picked it up, hurling it in the Whisper’s face. It didn’t explode like she’d hoped, but it actually stunned the creature.

“Looks like it’s not too late after all,” Lydia said, and the Whisper squinted at her in confusion.

There was a shout from behind them, and Lydia actually started in surprise when Stiles fired the gun. The bullet pierced the Whisper’s torso, black blood quickly flowing from the wound as its gargled scream of pain echoed through the woods. It was no longer quiet, and Lydia saw the dagger lying among the leaves. Grabbed it quickly, she drew herself up on her knees and drove it into the Whisper’s neck. She yanked the blade out, positive that she’d hit an artery, and watched as blood poured out of the wound.

“Lydia!” Scott caught her under her arms and pulled her to her feet, backing her away from the Whisper. “Are you okay?”

Other than her bleeding arm, and the black blood that was splattered across her face and the front of her shirt, she was fine. The creature spasmed and fell over, legs jerking as it tried to pull itself up and run.

“Just to be sure,” Kira swung her sword, separating the head from the body, the sound making Stiles gag and turn away. “Decapitation is a sure way to kill it.”

Lydia watched with the others as the Whisper actually began to disintegrate until it was nothing but a pile of black goo.

“That’s gross,” Malia said, wrinkling her nose.

“We need to get you to Melissa,” Derek said to Lydia, gingerly inspecting the claw marks on her arm. Blood ran down to her hand and onto the dagger that she still held.

“I’ll call her,” Isaac said, pulling out his phone.

Lydia leaned into Derek’s side as they began walking out of the woods. They’d send Liam and Mason back later to collect the rest of the landmines so that they wouldn’t be found. There was nothing left of the Whisper that would need to be hidden or buried.

The sun shown brightly through the trees above them, and it was as if the eclipse and the fight in the woods had never even happened.

*

_Two Weeks Later_ ;

“Lydia, we have to be at the airport in an hour!” Natalie reminded her daughter from the bottom of the stairs.

Tucking Allison’s dagger back into the top drawer of her vanity, Lydia’ turned and zipped up her suitcase. For the past two weeks, it had been quiet in Beacon Hills and she’d spent all of that time with her friends, doing normal things that one would do on a vacation.

“Here,” Derek put down the book he’d been reading through and got up off of the window bench, grabbing her suitcases for her. “Melissa said you’re not supposed to lift anything too heavy yet.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but allowed him to take the bags for her. The claw marks on her arm were still healing, and thankfully she hadn’t needed stitches. Melissa told her there would be a chance of them scarring, but Lydia had learned a long time ago to carry the scars that she had without feeling ashamed of them.

She already said goodbye to Scott, Stiles and the rest of the pack the night before at the going away dinner party that they had thrown for her. Summer break wasn’t that far away, and Lydia planned to return then.

“Would it be cliche to say I’m counting down the months until I’m coming back?” she asked as they walked outside to her mother’s car.

Derek tucked the suitcases into the trunk, closing it and turning around to look at her, “No, because I’m thinking the same thing.”

Uncaring that her mother was standing there watching them, Lydia wrapped her good arm around Derek’s neck and leaned up to kiss him. It would have been easy to take her suitcases out of the trunk and go hide out at Derek’s house for a little longer. But real life was calling her back to Boston.

“You promised to do that when everything was all over,” she reminded him when she pulled away.

Derek smiled, “I did.”

“Maybe I’ll see you in Boston before summer break, if you’re not to busy here?” she suggested hopefully.

“I think you will. Unless we get swamped by supernatural creatures between now and then, I’ll be there.” he agreed.

“Lydia, your flight?” Natalie reminded gently, and when Lydia looked over at her mother, she saw a knowing smile on her face.

Reluctantly, she got into the passenger seat of her mom’s car, gazing back at him through the side mirror until they’d driven too far to be able to see him.

“So that...thing that you went after? It’s not going to come back with the next solar eclipse?” Natalie wondered as she drove.

Lydia leaned her head back against the headrest, fingers brushing against the claw marks on her arm. “I don’t think so. We never saw anything about regeneration.”

“And the next solar eclipse?”

“It’s not for a long time,” Lydia said, glancing out the window at the sun.


End file.
